


Music Never Hurt Anyone

by Semebay



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semebay/pseuds/Semebay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred hadn't expected Arthur to invite him to the Prom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music Never Hurt Anyone

**Author's Note:**

> Original Publication Date: February 9th, 2010

  
  
Alfred had been understandably confused when Arthur had asked him to the Prom.  
  
For one, they weren't teenagers.  
  
And, well... How would it work?  
  
Alfred thought carefully over the invitation, wondering what to wear. Yes, he could go out and buy a tux immediately (at that, thoughts of Arthur in a dress struck him senseless for a good ten minutes), but where the hell would they go?  
  
It would be rather awkward walking into a high school prom and proceeding to blow the youth away with their astounding dance skills (though the after-show in the hotel room would be oh-so hot).  
  
Deciding that he didn't really care about what people would think after all, he was already grabbing a jacket and pulling on his shoes, trying to think of the nearest store. He could think of one about forty miles out, and while it was in the opposite direction of the airport, the thought of Arthur in a skirt made the trip worth it.  
  
And so, after two hours of shopping and nine hours of playing with planes, Alfred was finally walking up the front steps of Arthur's old Tudor home, the grin on his face rivaling the sun's brightness.  
  
He knocked, deciding that he would go about things the proper way (it was all for skirts and tail), and then Arthur finally opened the door.  
  
Scowling Arthur.  
  
Confused Arthur.  
  
Not-in-a-dress Arthur.  
  
"Well, I didn't think you were going to wear a tux," Arthur said as he looked Alfred up and down.  
  
"We're going to the Prom, aren't we?" Alfred said, frowning. He didn't like how Arthur was dressed so casually.  
  
"I didn't think you would be this eager," Arthur said. He was pulling on a jacket, and Alfred began to quickly lose the feeling of excitement. It was being shoved aside (rather forcefully) by awkwardness and a sudden need to get out of the tux.  
  
"I should change," Alfred said quickly, and he darted around Arthur and up the stairs. Arthur watched him go with a frown.  
  
"Second shelf to the left of the shower!" Arthur called up, wincing when he heard the crashes in his bathroom. "Your shirts are up a shelf!"  
  
"Thanks!"  
  
~*~  
  
"Didn't think there'd be so many people," Alfred muttered, looking past Arthur. The shorter man was dragging him in through the large doors, set on finding a good place to stand where he wouldn't be blocked by freakishly tall people (he wasn't short, damn it!).  
  
"What did you expect? This is a popular event." Arthur looked pleased as he moved through the crowds. "I remember the first one. The Queen liked it in particular."  
  
"You went with the Queen?" Alfred scowled, and Arthur glared at him.  
  
"I recommend you keep your mouth shut," Arthur growled, then finally stopped pushing through the crowds. Alfred finally had a chance to look around, and his excitement (which had been wavering in suspicion) chose that time to plummet.  
  
"What's with the band?"  
  
"Are you daft? Why wouldn't there be a band."  
  
"Yeah, but... Why's it so big?"  
  
"That's the BBC Symphony Orchestra," Arthur said, sounding distant. He looked far more interested in paying attention to what was happening on the stage than whatever Alfred wanted to say.  
  
"You brought an orchestra to the Prom?"  
  
Arthur looked back at him and frowned, confusion marking his features. "Are you sick? Why the hell wouldn't they bring a- well, I suppose there are the ukuleles..." Arthur paused and looked back towards the stage thoughtfully. "Of course, as much fun as they are, they have nothing on the orchestra."  
  
Alfred nodded and looked around warily.  
  
No one looked like they were ready for the prom. Everyone was dressed casually, some had even brought flags, and-  
  
"Where do they dance?" Alfred blurted. Arthur looked at him again with an expression of disdain.  
  
"No one comes here to dance," he sighed.  
  
"Then what do they do?"  
  
"Dear god, you have no ide- _this is the Proms!_ Music, orchestras, everything!"  
  
Alfred mumbled something under his breath, finally realizing something.  
  
There probably wouldn't be an after-show.  
  
“So we’re here to watch people play instruments?”  
  
“Don’t act so insulted,” Arthur sniffed. “These concerts have been happening for over a century. I’d like to see you try and do something like it.”  
  
“Course I could! I have concerts all the time!”  
  
“Not every night,” Arthur muttered. He slapped Alfred before the American could make another sound, shushing him. “Not right now! It’s starting!  
  
Alfred groaned and tried to think of better things.  
  
~*~  
  
“I don’t get what’s so important ‘bout the ancient music,” Alfred grumbled, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie.  
  
“Listening to this music is listening to history,” Arthur said. Alfred watched him from the corner of his eye, watching as he seemed to swell and shine in time with the music. “I remember when a lot of these songs came out. Well, Germany was so sure that his musicians were better, but it was only a matter of time before we proved him wrong.”  
  
Alfred swallowed. Arthur looked… _relaxed,_ for lack of a better word. The Brit seemed to shine among his people, smiling and swaying side-to-side in time with the music. A small smile graced his lips, and Alfred took his chance.  
  
Alfred leaned forward quickly, hoping to grab those lips in a kiss, but Arthur turned at the last second to talk to someone behind him, and Alfred tripped. He could swear that he hear Arthur laughing softly at him as his face flushed, and he straightened his back quickly and looked away.  
  
The concert seemed to drag on, and Alfred grew more and more aggravated and tired, wanting desperately to get out. Arthur had pulled a flag out of nowhere (he really wanted to know what else he was hiding), and the Briton was waiting eagerly as the orchestra began.  
  
Alfred recognized the music.  
  
"Oh! This is my song!" Alfred was suddenly more interested, and he leaned on Arthur's shoulder.  
  
"You git, this is _God Save the Queen._ " Arthur looked up with a scowl, meeting Alfred's dumbfounded expression.  
  
"Were you so depressed 'bout my independence that you copied my song?" Alfred said softly, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder.  
  
"Please don't tell me you honestly believe that," Arthur said dryly. "I believe it was made in my country a century before one of your people decided to steal it."  
  
"He just made it more awesome," Alfred muttered, his breath warming Arthur's ear. Arthur was suddenly happy that Alfred was situated behind him, so that he couldn't see the blood rush to the Brit's face.  
  
"I'd rather you not insult the anthem," Arthur grumbled, and Alfred wisely remained silent. Arthur had pushed him away and begun to wave the flag, and then Alfred noticed that more and more people were waving flags above his head.  
  
Alfred was struck by how many flags there were. In his eyes, it seemed as though everyone had a flag, that everyone was involved in this performance.  
  
And he wished that he had something like this back home. How amazing would it be, to see an endless plain of flags being waved by patriotic souls? To have everyone on the same side, cheering for the same group of people, connected by a common interest?  
  
He was almost drooling at the thought of the Star-Spangled Banner waving proudly above his people, the national anthem playing proudly.  
  
He would never admit that to Arthur, though.  
  
~*~  
  
“Are you sure you aren’t planning an uprising?” Alfred asked for the seventh time. He didn’t notice how Arthur was getting more and more red.  
  
“If I ever decide to usurp power in the United States and other surrounding countries, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Arthur said. “Now will you shut up?”  
  
“Sorry if this song is getting to me,” Alfred said, his voice _dripping_ with sarcasm. “But when your people are singing about ruling the world, it kinda makes me wonder.”  
  
“This song is a national treasure, I’ll have you know.” Arthur was practically frothing at the mouth. “Rule Britannia has been a part of England since-“  
  
“What the hell is Britannia anyway?” Alfred asked, delighting in how Arthur began to twitch.  
  
“Do you want me to escort you out? Because I will, and-“  
  
"Keep it up, you're going to pop a blood vessel or something."  
  
"It's the _United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland!_ " Arthur hissed. "How can you not see that _Great Britain_ and _Britannia_ share some kind of-"  
  
“Take a chill pill,” Alfred said suddenly, and Arthur’s anger gave way to confusion.  
  
“I- what?”  
  
Alfred was leaning on him again, looking past the crowds to the stage. “Nothing.”  
  
"No, I demand you tell me exactly what-"  
  
"It's really nothing," Alfred said, and he stared at Arthur, locking eyes. He hoped to get some sort of message across, maybe a hint to find the nearest bathroom (together).  
  
Sadly, Arthur wasn't in the mood for taking hints.  
  
"Fine," Arthur grumbled, and he looked back towards the orchestra, muttering under his breath (and Alfred was sure they were profanities, but maybe it was just singing).  
  
~*~  
  
The journey back to Arthur’s home had been silent. Alfred was still mulling over the Prom, and at the same time Arthur was trying to figure out what the hell Alfred had been thinking when he had accepted the invitation.  
  
“Where’s your hotel?” Arthur suddenly asked, and Alfred laughed.  
  
“When was the last time I got a hotel in London?” Alfred grinned.  
  
Arthur grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “ _you would have this time if you valued your life_ ,” and Alfred looked out the window.  
  
“Did you have any idea what Proms was?” Arthur asked once his anger had dissipated, and he pulled into his drive. He was climbing out of the car, and Alfred had suddenly turned bright red. “Alfred?”  
  
“Well, we _do_ have proms in the States!” Alfred said quickly, and Arthur stared at him for a long time before finally unlocking his door.  
  
“Right, and I’m _sure_ they’re on the same scale as mine.”  
  
“Damn straight!” Alfred boasted, but his voice seemed to waver.  
  
And Arthur, intelligent gentleman that he was, remembered the tux.  
  
And the expression of surprise on Alfred’s face.  
  
"If you have proms, then you should have had some idea of what you were going to," Arthur grumbled, though he was still trying to figure out what it meant.  
  
Alfred certainly wasn't one to dress up for no reason. And he doubted that he would have willingly gone to an orchestra in formal attire.  
  
It didn't take long for him to remember something about American culture.  
  
Rather, American high schools.  
  
"Please don't tell me you thought I had invited you to a high school dance," Arthur chuckled. When Alfred kept silent, he knew the truth.  
  
And that truth made him want to laugh, cry, and curse the other out of existence, all at the same time.  
  
"How would that even _work_?" Arthur asked, donning an expression that he hoped showed how mystified he was by the other's thought processes.  
  
Alfred simply shrugged.  
  
"And I imagine you had to decide between getting a tux and a dress." Arthur chuckled at the image, but Alfred was quick to deny the allegation.  
  
"But I don't know your size!" Alfred suddenly stiffened when he realized what he had said.  
  
Arthur gawked at him, then collected himself and glared.  
  
"You expected me in a dress, didn't you?"  
  
Alfred wisely chose to remain silent.  
  
"Of all the- damn it, Alfred! What goes on in that blasted head of yours?"  
  
Neither man moved. They simply stared at one another, testing each other, seeing who would break first.  
  
Alfred did.  
  
"Well, time for bed!" Alfred said quickly, and without a moment's hesitation, he had picked Arthur up, slung him over his shoulder, and trotted up the stairs. Arthur cursed (even though Alfred couldn't make anything out with him changing accents so quickly), and Alfred decided that he would at least get something he had expected since he had gone and bought a four-hundred dollar tux.  
  
He was going to get an after-show.  
  



End file.
